


Farmer's (Grand)Daughter

by KaeCooks



Series: Rollin' in the Hay [1]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Tumblr: BFFP (Chicago Fire)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27845266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaeCooks/pseuds/KaeCooks
Summary: Alternate Universe where Matt is placed in the foster care system after his mom kills his dad. He's bounced from home to home before eventually being placed in a small town the summer before his senior year.Underage but no adult activities take place in this story. We'll get to that later in the series... after they've turned 18. Eventual BrettseyUses one prompt for inspiration from the December BFFP challenge:"Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to."
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Series: Rollin' in the Hay [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038285
Comments: 118
Kudos: 131





	1. Home?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> As a small town girl, I've been playing around with the idea of what would have happened if Matt would have come to Fowlerton instead of Sylvie going to Chicago. If you couldn't tell from the title, Rodney Atkins' "Farmer's Daughter" inspired some of this story's direction. After rewriting the beginning a solid 5 times, I've finally found how I want this to go. 
> 
> Like I said in the summary, Sylvie and Matt are both underage for this story, but I promise there are more stories coming for this series and they'll be 18 before I'm writing any smut for them, so bare with me. 
> 
> With that, I'll stop rambling and let y'all read. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for being here and, as always, feel free to let me know what you think!
> 
> Much love,
> 
> Kae

**Chapter 1**

Sixteen-year-old Matt shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot in the entryway of yet another new house, not bothering to pay attention to the conversation going on beside him. 

It was just another stranger with a too-cheery voice promising his social worker they’d take care of him, nevermind the fact that they’d be sick of him by the time a month was up. 

They’d try, like the rest, to engage with him, to make him “part of their family,” but it always ended the same way. It didn’t matter what anyone said when he showed up on their doorstep with his garbage bag full of clothes. In the end, nobody wanted him. He was too damaged.

Just a little over one more year of this and he could finally be on his own, officially, rather than being on his own as he was bounced from one foster home to the next. They never bothered to leave him in the same school district. This time, they’d not only bounced him out of Chicago, but out of Illinois entirely, saying something about thinking a small town would better benefit him. 

Recognizing the conversation beside him had come to a close, he mumbled a goodbye to his social worker.

“Come on, Matthew, I’ll show you to your room,” Michelle, his newest foster mom, told him, leading the way inside.

_ It’s Matt, _ he thought, but didn’t bother correcting her. He’d be out of here soon enough anyway. 

“So what do you think of Fowlerton so far?” Michelle asked him.

He shrugged noncommittally. “Just got here,” he quietly replied.  _ And I’ll be gone before I have time to form an opinion. _

“We were thinking about going out for supper tonight. Does that sound okay?”

Matt shrugged again, setting his bag on a chair in the corner of the room, as far away from Michelle as he could physically get.

“Would you be more comfortable staying here?” Michelle asked, trying a different approach. 

He stared out the window at the large birch trees in the Beckers’ back yard, angled so he could just barely see Michelle in his peripheral vision. “Out’s fine,” he replied softly, not bothering to turn and look at her.

“That’ll be good,” she said with a smile. “Then we can take you for a tour of the town afterward. Is pizza okay?”

Matt nodded. Anything he didn’t get beat up or yelled at for making or eating was fine by him.

“Great. Devon will get home from work in about half an hour, so I’ll let you get settled in. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.” 

Matt turned to fully face her for the first time since arriving and murmured a quick thanks before dropping his gaze to the floor and reaching for his bag. 

He’d unpack it to make the Beckers feel better about themselves, but he wouldn’t get “settled in” as Michelle had put it. If he let himself settle in, it would just hurt that much more when they inevitably sent him away. Everybody sent him away.

* * *

Sylvie hopped down out of the hay loft, brushing the stray straws off of herself before grabbing one of the two small squares in each hand and hoisting them off the ground. 

“I remember when you were about yay tall,” her grandpa Gerald commented, holding his hand flat just above his knee, “probably about four years old and you tried lifting one of those by yourself for the first time. Didn’t do anything but pull the twine off of that side and sent you flying onto your keester. And now? Look at you -”

“Hoisting two of ‘em like it’s nothin’,” Sylvie finished for him. She couldn’t count how many times her grandfather had retold this story by now. 

“Well I sure do appreciate the help, kiddo. These old bones don’t climb as well as they used to.” 

“You’re only sixty, Papa. That’s hardly old.”

“Just wait ‘til you’re my age, Sylvie, then you tell me sixty’s young.” Gerald pulled the door to the chicken coop open for her.

She shuffled through and tossed the bales onto the floor, sending the chickens scattering as they squawked indignantly. 

“I’m thinkin’ on hiring some extra help around here,” Gerald said, following his granddaughter into the chickens’ space and helping her spread around the fresh bedding. “You may say I’m not old, but I’m certainly getting there. Much as I want to, I can’t keep going at the pace I am and I’m not quite ready to give up construction just yet.”

“Why not hire some extra help for construction? I like to help you there when I can, but I don’t think I could ever run it. But here on the farm? You’ve got me here as much as you need.” 

Although Gerald would have a hard time handing off either his construction business or his farm to somebody outside of his only daughter or granddaughter, if he had to choose one, it would be the construction business. “That’s a good idea, kiddo. Construction’s just my job.”

“But farming’s your livelihood,” Sylvie finished with him, another statement he said a lot. She evened out the rest of the straw in the chickens’ nests as her grandpa gave them clean water and refilled their food, leaving them clucking contentedly.

* * *

As promised, once Michelle’s husband came home, Matt was introduced to Devon then the three of them went out for pizza.

They quickly found a spot to sit and a waitress approached their table.

“Jules!” Michelle exclaimed, practically leaping out of her chair. “I didn’t realize you were working tonight!”

“I wasn’t supposed to, but Jaime’s kid got sick. She asked me to cover for her, so here I am and oh! Is this the young man you were telling me about last week?”

“Yes. Julie, this is Matthew. Matthew, this is my best friend, Julie. She has a daughter about your age. Actually,” she rambled on, a thought occurring to her, ”Jules, is Sylvie home? We could pop over after this and introduce the two of them, that way Matthew could know someone his own age here.”

“Oh she’d love that!” Julie exclaimed. “She’s at my parents’ place tonight. Not that you couldn’t swing by, but I think she said Dad wanted to clean the chicken house tonight and I don’t think she’d be too happy with me sending you her way when they’re doing that.”

“That’s alright. We’ll just have to swing by sometime when you’re both home.”

“I think we’re forgetting to ask if this is something Matthew would be interested in,” Devon spoke up, given his wife a pointed look before turning to the teenager with an apologetic grin. “Sometimes Michelle’s excitement gets her ahead of herself.”

“S’alright.” Matt replied.

“Well how about I get your order going and I’ll give you all some time to discuss what you want to do,” Julie suggested.

Matt nodded, grateful he didn’t have to make decisions about meeting someone new right now.

After they placed their order, Michelle brought it back up. “Julie and I get together every chance we get, so there’s really no pressure to decide, but if you were to want to meet someone your age, Sylvie is a really wonderful place to start. She’s very sweet.” 

Thankfully, she didn’t seem to be expecting a reply. He didn’t feel like explaining that he didn’t really want to meet new people just to have to leave again. Foster families generally didn’t like when he made a comment about not being around long, no matter how true it was.

“So what are some of your hobbies, Matthew?” Michelle asked, changing the subject. “We should see if there’s anything around here that would interest you.”

He shrugged. The only thing he’d done with any sort of regularity in the last four years was move. Before that? Just a whole lot of making himself invisible. 

“Do you like to read or watch movies?” 

He half-shrugged. “They’re alright.” Truth be told, he didn’t get much exposure to either. 

“Any ideas what you want to do after high school?” Devon asked.

Another shrug. 

“Will you want to go back to the city once you graduate?”

He shook his head lightly. “Not sure.” He’d go back to  _ a  _ city, maybe, but Chicago? No. There were too many nightmarish memories there and too many people who knew them. He was tired of wading through the carnage of his father’s lifestyle and mother’s decision. 

Julie came back with their pizza and, to Matt’s relief, there were no more questions directed at him while they ate.

The rest of the night was mostly uneventful. It only took thirty minutes to see everything Fowlerton had to offer. Then, when they got back to the house, he went straight back to hiding in his room, and he stayed there the rest of the night. 


	2. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Sylvie meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, y'all! I am amazed by the amount of love this story has gotten in just a couple short days! Thank you SO MUCH to all of you reading along, leaving kudos, and commenting! You make this writer's heart happy =) <3

**Chapter 2**

Matt pulled on his last clean shirt, scowling when his thumb caught in a small hole that had worn in the side, tearing it wide open. He pulled it off and tossed it to the side. 

He should really look into getting a job and saving up some money. He desperately needed new clothes and would need some savings if he expected to move into an apartment next year. But he didn’t have time to worry about that right now.

Moving to his pile of dirty clothes, he rifled through until he found the least beat up, least smelly one. He pulled it over his head before meeting Devon and Michelle by the door.

* * *

“Mom, come on! We’re going to be late!” Sylvie called, pacing around by the front door. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Julie said, pulling her hair into a low ponytail as she hustled down the stairs. After running into Devon and MIchelle at the diner a couple weeks ago, Michelle had reached out, saying Matthew had expressed interest in meeting Sylvie.

Sylvie, while always happy to meet new people and make new friends, was taking this very seriously. She couldn’t imagine having to move to a new town and a new school the summer before her senior year. She didn’t know whether Matthew would care about timeliness, but she hated to be late. It made for a poor first impression.

“Now Sylvie,” Julie said as they climbed into the car, “Matthew is a foster kid, so there’s no telling what he’s been through. Make sure to avoid sensitive topics -”

“Why would I bring up sensitive topics with someone I just met?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to remind you.”

“Mom -”

“I trust you, hun, and I know you mean well. Just be careful and don’t get offended if he doesn’t want to talk to you. Remember we -”

“- have no idea what he’s been through,” Sylvie finished for her. “I know, Mom. It’ll be fine.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the two walked into the restaurant, quickly spotting Devon, Michelle, and Matthew at a round table by a window. 

Michelle jumped up to greet Julie, wrapping her friend in a hug before introducing the two teens. 

He nodded at them in a quiet greeting, his blue eyes meeting Sylvie’s for the briefest of moments, and Sylvie felt heat rush to her cheeks. She ducked her head as she took a seat, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She was going to have to get over those gorgeous blue eyes and fast. What better way to do that than distracting herself with a conversation? 

After they placed their order and she’d had a chance to let most of the blush fade, Sylvie set out on her mission of getting to know the (incredibly cute) boy sitting beside her. 

“So Matthew,” she said, and he found he liked the way his name rolled off her tongue, not at all reminding him of the way his mom would say it when she gave him yet another scolding about how he had to do everything perfectly so as not to upset his father. Not at all reminiscent of the many foster parents who said it sympathetically, in pity for “what he’d gone through.” 

He raised his head to look at her, a sign that he was listening. 

“If you don’t mind my asking, where were you before you came here?”

“Chicago.”

“Oh pickles that’s a big change!” 

“You’re telling me,” he replied dryly.

“So, um, I’m sorry if you’ve gotten this question a lot, but are you liking Fowlerton so far?”

“There’s a lot more room to breathe and just exist here.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I’m happy to hear it.” There was something uplifting about hearing the transition seemed to be a good change for him. “But I should warn you, everyone knows everyone around here. There’s not many secrets.”

He swallowed hard. Not many secrets? 

“It makes for a nice sense of community, but it can be a little worrisome if you think about all the people trying to stick their noses where they don’t belong. I don’t really care though, I’m at Nina and Papa’s farm most of the time. People can talk all they want.”

Matt was trying hard to mask the anxiety churning within him. How long would it take people here to find out his darkest secrets, find out why he was here? 

A tentative hand on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts and he flinched away from her touch. 

She retracted her hand, eyebrows furrowed in concern, about to apologize, but the waiter came out with their food. 

He accepted his plate silently and started picking at his food, grateful to be saved from saying anything or having to look back up at Sylvie and the pity he knew would be all over her face. 

“Matthew?” she said quietly, doing her best not to draw the adults’ attention. “Hey, I - I’m sorry I said something to upset you. It was never my intention.”

“Not your fault,” he replied, bracing himself and looking up at her. What he found surprised him. Unlike so many people before her, there was no sign of pity, no sad look as she assumed what he must have gone through to react in such a way. 

“So,” she said awkwardly, “Do you have any shows that you enjoy?”

He shrugged. “I’m not much of a TV guy. Is there one you like?”

“My mom and I are really into House Hunters right now.”

“What’s that all about?” he asked and she beamed, evaporating the cloud that hung over them, taking any of his anxieties along with it. How could one stranger’s smile have such a strong effect? 

As Sylvie rambled on about the remodeling process, Matt felt the corners of his mouth tic upward. Her excitement and her smile were contagious. 

“You want to be a real estate agent someday?” he asked when she’d finished. 

“I’d consider it. I have a couple other options I’m tossing around, too. My grandma’s a nurse, and I think it would be really wonderful to have a job where I could take care of people - ”

“You know, Sylvie,” Devon interjected from his spot on the other end of the table, “you could always just get your EMT certification. Get yourself whatever full time job you want and run the ambulance on the side.”

Matt furrowed his brows in question. Didn’t Devon have an office job?

“He’s the chief of the fire department,” Sylvie explained. 

“You’re seventeen, right Matthew?” Devon asked. “I could bring you on as a junior firefighter if you’d have any interest. Then if you like it and you want to stay in Fowlerton, you can join as a full member at 18.”

“Ignore him,” Michelle advised. “All he ever does is try to recruit for the fire department. In fact, I’m surprised it’s taken him this long to bring it up around you.”

“Not to be rude,” Matt said tentatively, “but does it pay decent?”

“Our only currency is beer,” Devon chuckled. “We’re a volunteer department here. Everybody has their normal full-time job to pay the bills. We just go about our everyday lives until the pager goes off.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Matt said, and the adults returned to whatever conversation they’d been on before.

“So, uh, are you looking for a job?” Sylvie asked.

Matt shrugged. “I should probably make some sort of a living so I can support myself next year.” 

“Well, I don’t know what sort of stuff you like to do, but Papa just told me a couple weeks ago that he wanted to hire some help for his construction business. Even if you don’t know anything about it, I’m sure he’d be willing to teach you if you want to learn.”

“Really?” 

She nodded. “Really.”

“When can I meet him?”

Sylvie glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m supposed to go help him with chores after we’re done eating. If you’re not afraid of a few farm animals, you’re more than welcome to join me.” 

His lips tugged upward and he nodded. “Thanks, Sylvie.”

They finished their meal and, after promising the Beckers she’d give Matthew a ride home when they were done with chores, they ducked out, leaving the adults to chat. 

Sylvie drove to her house first. “I need to swing home and change into my chores clothes,” she informed him. “Do you want to change before we go to the farm?”

“I don’t really have anything else,” Matt replied candidly, surprised at how easy it was to be open with her. “These will have to do.”

She gave him a quick once-over, again surprising him when she answered without pity in her tone. “I might be a little short for you to fit in mine, but I think my mom still has a box of my dad’s clothes somewhere. They’d probably be a little big on you, and they’d smell like basement, but they’re there if you want.”

Come to think of it, he’d be wise to keep the clothes that fit him in good condition until he could buy himself more. “Your dad won’t mind?”

“He’s dead,” she replied simply, motioning for Matt to follow her down to the basement. 

He kicked himself internally. He, of all people, should know not to assume everyone has two parents who are alive and well. “I’m sorry, Sylvie, I had no clue.” 

“It’s okay, really. You had no way of knowing. It’s five years ago now… Here it is,” she said, reaching for a tote labeled: DANIEL’S. She pulled a shirt and a pair of jeans from it and handed them off to Matt before replacing the tote on the alphabetically ordered shelf.

“I’ll just be in my room back there,” she said once they were back upstairs, gesturing further down the hallway. She pointed him toward a bathroom he could change in then disappeared down the hallway.


	3. Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvie introduces Matt to her grandparents.

**Chapter 3**

A few minutes later, as the two were climbing into her old Ford Ranger, Matt cleared his throat awkwardly. His situation was a constant cause of trouble back in Chicago. Before Sylvie introduced him to her grandfather, he might as well get ahead of it. “My dad’s dead too,” he started.

Sylvie turned at the sound of his voice. He’d been quiet ever since she said that her dad died and she was worried she’d done something to upset him again. Turns out, she might have. She wanted to apologize but, sensing he had more to say, she kept quiet and waited for him to continue. 

“That’s why I shut down before when you said this town doesn’t have many secrets. Because, you see, my dad didn’t just die. My mom killed him.”

“Oh, Matthew, I’m so -,” she gasped.

“Don’t, please,” he interrupted. “He abused us for  _ years _ . . . as long as I can remember and probably even before that. He had it coming.”

“Oh.” What does a person even say to that? “So your mom’s -”

“In jail, yeah. That’s why CPS took me.”

She nodded quietly, taking in the new information. 

He sat in his seat, hands folded in his lap, staring at the floor. She was entirely too quiet. . . and he just knew this is when it all falls apart. How stupid was he, thinking that it was a good idea to spill his deepest, darkest secret? Nobody wanted to deal with his level of baggage. Any good thing he had going up to this point? Consider it gone. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Finally, she spoke, pulling him from his inner spiral: “Well, unless you choose to tell anyone else, your secret is safe with me. Pinky swear.” She rested her elbow on the console and extended her pinky toward him.

He lifted his head, amazement evident in his eyes as he tentatively wrapped his pinky around hers. Easy as that? She’s just accepting his past as fact and continuing on as they had been? 

She flashed a smile at him as she gave it a quick squeeze before letting go. “Anything else you want me to know before we get to Nina and Papa’s?” 

He started to shake his head but stopped himself. “Actually, yeah,” he said. Sylvie was clearly someone he was going to want to spend as much of his time in Fowlerton with her as he could, no matter how much it was going to suck when he inevitably got moved to yet another foster home. And, though he didn’t mind the way she said his full name, he wanted her to know, “I usually go by Matt, not Matthew.” 

“Matt,” she repeated. “I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else?”

Nothing he could think of. “Is there anything else you want to know?”

A gentle smile graced her lips. “Nothing you don’t want to share.”

Somebody pinch him. He’d just found an angel. “Thanks, Sylvie.”

“You’re welcome, Matt.”

She pulled out of the driveway and he smiled down into his lap, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve meeting someone so sweet, but he was going to do his best to never screw it up.

* * *

“Nina! Papa!” Sylvie called into the farmhouse. 

There was no answer.

“They must have started chores already,” she said, motioning for Matt to follow her. 

Sure enough, they spotted the older couple as soon as they stepped into the barn. “Hi Nina! Hi Papa!” Sylvie greeted cheerily. “I’ve brought a friend I want you to meet.”

Matt grinned, glancing over at her. She already considered him a friend? 

She returned his smile and nodded outside. “No use in talking over the chickens if I don’t have to,” she explained, once all four of them were back outside. “Matt, this is Nina -”

“Call me Marie,” the woman said with a familiar smile.

“- and this is Papa Gerald.”

“What brings you here, son? You lookin’ to date my granddaughter?”

“No, sir,” Matt replied quickly, looking to Sylvie for help. 

“He’s just teasing you, Matt,” Sylvie said with a giggle, but shot a pointed look at her grandfather that said  _ be nice _ . “Papa, Matt’s new to town and might be interested in helping you out over the summer.”

“Do you know anything about construction, Matt?” Gerald asked, stealing a glance at his granddaughter.

Matt fought the urge to let his head drop toward the ground. “No, sir.”

“But we were hoping you might be willing to teach him,” Sylvie added, meeting her grandfather’s gaze with big eyes and a small shrug.

Gerald considered his granddaughter’s request carefully before extending his hand forward. “If you’re willing to learn and willing to work, I’m more than happy to teach you.” 

Matt politely met the older man’s hand and gave it a shake. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

“Enough with this ‘sir’ nonsense, Matt. Call me Gerald.”

With that, the four of them stepped back into the barn, and Sylvie started teaching Matt the basics of the farm.

* * *

Over the course of the next month, Matt spent the majority of his days with Sylvie and Gerald. They took care of the animals first thing in the morning, went in and ate breakfast with Marie, then went to work on whatever construction project they had that day, armed with large lunches Marie had packed for each of them while they were doing morning chores. They’d wrap up their construction work just before supper time and return to the farm to eat, Marie again putting more food in front of them than anyone could finish - anyone but Gerald, that is.

“Alright you two,” Gerald said as they were finishing up supper. “Let’s make quick work of chores tonight.”

“Project out of town tomorrow?” Matt asked. There’d been a couple times that he and Sylvie had been asked to come even earlier in the morning because they had to drive further to their jobsite. 

“No. We’re going to introduce you to baling up alfalfa.”

“Would that be just making up the bales we put out for the horses?”

“You’re a fast learner, son. I think we’ll keep you around.” Gerald winked at the teenager. 

“Thank you. I’ve been trying really hard,” Matt replied with a tight-lipped smile. When he first met Sylvie five weeks ago, he told himself he wanted to fight it, but he’d gotten connected to this place anyway. People were different here. People didn’t know his history here… besides Sylvie, and - true to her word - she hadn’t told a soul. But that didn’t ease his fears that it could all be taken away on a dime.

Sylvie discreetly nudged his shoulder with her own as her grandfather turned out of the room. “I can hear you thinking,” she whispered. 

He ducked his head and scuffed his foot on the floor, turning toward the door. “Sorry.”

“No. Matt, stop.” She took a quick step so she was facing him and looked up into his eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re doing great here. Papa and Nina love you already. Which, not a big deal for Nina, but this is fast for Papa. You're picking up on everything like you were born to do it. If we weren't there to see it, we would never believe that - just five weeks ago - you didn't know a Phillips from a flathead. And learning the farm on top of that? You really impress him, Matt.” 

“I do?”

“You do. And you really impress me. I never thought a city boy would handle the country life so well.”

He smiled at her, a real one this time. “Thanks, Sylvie.”

“You’re welcome. Now come on! Let’s do chores so we can get home.”


	4. Cooties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day of making hay. . . and celebrating when it's done.

The next morning, Sylvie pulled into the Beckers’ driveway before the sun had even begun to spread its red-orange light across the horizon. Matt was sitting in his usual spot outside the garage, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against the onslaught of light from the truck. 

“Sorry about that,” Sylvie said as he slid into the passenger seat, eyes still squinted.

He yawned. “It’s early. You’re fine.”

“Don’t do that,” she chastised through a yawn of her own as she pulled out of the driveway. “It’s contagious.”

“Can’t help it,” he replied with a tired grin. “I shouldn’t be awake before the sun.”

He was right about that… especially so close to the summer solstice when the sun began peeking over the horizon at five. “Here,” she said, offering him her mug full of coffee. “This’ll help.”

“But it’s yours.”

She shrugged. “We can share.”

“You sure?”

“Positive,” she said, and he raised the mug. “But wait.”

Matt froze, the mug centimeters from his lips. 

“You might get my cooties if you do that.”

He turned his head slowly to look at her. She’d said it so seriously he’d almost missed the joke. “I don’t know about you, but I left those in elementary school,” he deadpanned, moving the mug the rest of the way to take a sip. 

She giggled, glad he was playing along despite the early hour. “Me too.”

* * *

Later that morning, Matt unceremoniously flopped on top of a bale and started unbuttoning his sweat-drenched long-sleeve shirt.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Sylvie warned, taking a seat next to him. “Unless you want your arms to itch for the next week. You just kinda have to tough it out. It sucks but believe me, it’s the lesser of the two evils.”

He refastened the two buttons he’d undone. Sweating profusely was much preferable to the thought of an all-over itch. “I’ll take your word for it.” She hadn’t led him astray yet. 

They shared their water jug, bouncing the rest of the way across the field on the way to the barn. 

“Alright, let’s do this,” Sylvie sighed when they rolled to a stop. 

* * *

They got the last load unloaded and stacked three hours later, just as the sun peaked in the sky. 

“Papa, we’re going for lunch!” Sylvie called into the barn. 

“Be back in time for chores,” Gerald replied, “and don’t have too much fun!”

“Come on,” Sylvie said, jumping off the wagon. “I have the perfect celebration.” 

Matt wasn’t sure he had the energy for a celebration after six hours of throwing the square bales into stacks on the wagon and then from the wagon to the barn, but he followed her anyway. 

She jumped onto the Ranger and patted the seat next to her.

“Where are we going?” he asked, sliding onto the seat of the ATV.

“You’ll see.” She took off down the path that edged the field, back toward a timber. A few minutes later, she rolled to a stop and grabbed their lunch boxes from the back. 

He followed her as she wove through the trees until she finally came to a stop beside a large oak tree. He moved to sit, but a look from her stopped him. 

“There’s a pond just there,” she explained. “If you wanted to cool down a bit. It’s actually fairly deep. Comes up to my chest when it’s been raining.” 

Come to think of it, a dip in the water sounded  _ much  _ better than food.

Nearing the pond’s edge, Sylvie peeled off her shirt and jeans, leaving just a thick-strapped sports bra and spandex. Then, with a running start, she leaped into the water.

Matt stood shell-shocked on the shore, in awe of her confidence. 

“Aren’t you coming?” she asked, resurfacing.

“Oh - uh,” he stammered, moving toward the edge of the water, only kicking off his shoes.

“It feels much better if you lose the clothes,” she suggested. “There’s no one back here. Typically I jump in fully, well, you know -” she trailed off, finally realizing how what she was saying sounded. 

“I’m sure it does,” he replied meekly. “But uh -”

“I should clarify. I - uh - I’m not saying that we do anything in here.” She wrung her hands together underwater, her face flushing. “That’s not what I mean at all. I wouldn’t - I mean I never - not before I’m married.”

“No, it’s not that,” Matt replied, just as awkward. “I would never make a move on you. Not that you’re not gorgeous. You are, but uh -”  _ Damnit, Matt, get it together.  _ “I just, um, what I’m trying to say is there’s - er - I have some scars...from uh, from -” He scuffed his foot in the grass, unable to say the words, and even more incapable of facing her. 

With his confession, she pulled herself out of the water, swallowing whatever embarrassment she had from her rambling. “You’re not the only one with scars, Matt. Here, look.” She showed him a large scar that ran from below her ankle up to her calf. “Actually got this doing hay a couple years ago. Lost my footing tossing bales into the barn for Papa, fell off the wagon and shattered my ankle and part of my fibula.”

He’d noticed the scar before, of course, but he’d never known the story, and the story behind his scars was exactly why he didn’t like to show them.

“I know this is easy for me to say,” she started softly, knowing there was more to his scars than an innocent tumble off the wagon, “but the story doesn’t really matter. It’s what you do with it. The scar might still be there, but the story is in your past, Matt. Don’t let it define you.”

“I tried not to,” he said bitterly, “but everyone else did that for me. I just wanted a bed to sleep in and some food to eat, to stay out of everyone’s way. With each new foster placement, discounting the pity I got for being a foster kid, it’d start alright, but as soon as they heard my story, it was set in their minds. I was either going to be a wife-beater or a murderer. Then they didn’t want me and I was booted to the next place. It’s only a matter of time before it happens again.” 

On an impulse, she reached and grabbed his hand. “Anybody who judges you based on your past isn’t worth your time. You’re  _ you _ , Matt, not your parents. I know I haven’t known you long, but I know you have a great sense of humor. You’re kind, considerate, and hard-working. Anybody who doesn’t see that is blind.” 

He raised his eyes from the ground to meet hers and was nearly knocked backward by the fierce compassion he found there. In that instant, he decided she was right. It was time for him to get his head out of the past and allow himself to live his life. “Sylvie?” he asked finally, his voice hoarse from some combination of emotion and the dust they’d breathed in all morning. “Could I - uh - could I hug you?” 

She answered him by releasing his hand and throwing her arms around his middle. She hugged him tightly to her and it was like she squeezed any lingering insecurity right out of him. 

He knew that those feelings would still come creeping back, they always did, but this time, he’d be ready to fight them. He  _ would  _ become more than his past. If not for him, then for the girl in front of him. Her friendship was everything to him and he would do whatever it took to keep it. 

Never the first to end a hug, Sylvie waited for Matt to let go. When he did, she took a step back and smiled at him. “Should we go hop in now?” she asked.

“Sounds great,” he replied and stripped his shirt and jeans without a second thought. 

“Race you!” she challenged, and took off running. 

He was right behind her, and they both hit the water with a large splash. He came up before she did and looked around, waiting for her to resurface. When he spotted her, he gave the water a quick swipe with his arm, throwing a burst of water at her before she even knew what was happening.

“H- h- hey!” she sputtered, shoving more water back at him. “Not fair!” 

He turned away, but the oncoming spray still hit him. “No, what wouldn’t be fair is if I pulled you under.” 

She froze, about to splash him again. “You wouldn’t.”

“Of course not.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Or would I?”

“Matthew,” she warned in a playful tone.

“Sylvie,” he returned in an equally playful tone, creeping slowly toward her. 

She backed away slowly, watching him carefully. 

His lunge still took her by surprise and she squealed as he swept her off her feet. Rather than pull her under, however, he hoisted her out of the water and tossed her backward, turning away from the resulting splash. 

“Oh it’s on!” she giggled, putting her feet back underneath her. Then she started chasing after him. Her muscles would be mad about getting overworked tomorrow, but right now? She couldn’t bring herself to care.


	5. Fireworks

Two weeks later was the fourth of July and Sylvie invited Matt to watch the fireworks with her. 

Rather than drive to any of the nearby towns that were setting off fireworks, though, Sylvie decided to introduce Matt to her favorite way to watch the displays. She handed a blanket and two bottles of lemonade up to him and then crawled up onto the roof of the ranch house she’d lived her whole life in. She climbed to the peak of the roof and took the blanket back from him, laying it out over the shingles. 

“Your mom really won’t care that we’re up here?” he asked, handing her one of the bottles and sitting down beside her.

“She expects it by now. Besides the pond at Nina and Papa’s, this is my favorite spot. Dad and I used to come up here to stargaze from time to time, and we always came up here for the fireworks.”

“And this is the best place to watch them from?”

“We’re outside of town, so we’re not fighting the streetlights and just look! You can see for miles! We get to watch everything from as close as Fairmount to as far as Indianapolis. All the show and none of the driving, crowds, or loud explosions. It’s perfect!”

A month and a half ago, when he first got here, he would have had to ask exactly how far that was, but he’d gone to the state’s capital city on a shopping trip with the Beckers just a few weeks ago. It had amazed him that they’d had to drive by corn and bean fields for an entire hour before arriving at the city’s outskirts. 

He took a look around. Sylvie was right, he could see for miles. City lights weren’t obvious, but he had no doubt fireworks flying high into the sky would be visible. “It really is,” he agreed. 

They sat there in comfortable silence for a bit, turning around every so often as they searched for the first town to let their fireworks fly. 

“I just realized I have no idea when your birthday is,” Sylvie said randomly. 

“I don’t really celebrate it,” Matt replied, “but it’s next week, the seventh.”

Her hand flew to his shoulder. “Oh my gosh, Matt!”

“You’re not going to tell me yours is the same day, are you?”

“No. Two days later, but that’s still crazy close!” 

“Yeah, it is,” he chuckled, reaching to squeeze her hand before she dropped it back to her side.

“We should do something together! Definitely not a party - I’m not big on parties, but maybe go out for supper or something. I mean, my mom will want to go out for mine, and I know Michelle and Devon will want to celebrate yours, if you want, but we should do something just the two of us.”

“Like a date?” Matt asked, quirking his eyebrow. 

“Yes! Exactly!” she exclaimed before her brain caught up with his words and her face flushed red. “Except, you know, we’re not dating.” She’d only known him for 6 weeks. She shouldn’t have feelings for him like this, should she? 

“Who says friends can’t go on a date?” Not that he’d be opposed to being more than friends… Since that day at the pond two weeks ago, he’d begun to have trouble with his feelings about Sylvie. She’d impressed him from day one, and he surprised himself with how vulnerable he was comfortable being around her. She brought more joy to his life than he’d previously thought possible. He valued her so deeply, but feelings of friendship were making way to something more, something he didn’t quite understand.

“Look,” Sylvie said, pointing to the west. “Someone’s started firing off their fireworks.” 

He turned in the direction she’d pointed and, sure enough, another firework flew and burst in the air with a faint  _ pop _ , the explosion muffled by their distance. It was an amazing spectacle and he was awed that she would share something with him that was previously hers and her father’s alone. The fact she could share something so special with her father, with no fear of a temper explosion, he wished he could have had that.

“Tell me about your dad,” he requested as they watched the colors bursting in the night sky, now appearing in every direction they looked. 

She sighed, looking up into the sky, higher than any fireworks would be. “You would have liked him… I think. I know he would have loved you.”

“What was he like?”

“He was a really down-to-earth guy, just like you. Put everything he had into his job, then came home to Mom and me. You know how you hear about some people who never leave their job? That wasn’t my dad. He never missed a concert or a game, when I was still in sports, and he’d come outside and play with me all the time.” Memories surfaced in her mind, so many of them when she was just outside playing with her dad. Unshed tears burned in her eyes. What she wouldn’t give to have just one more game with him. 

Seeing the pain on her face, Matt tentatively wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a tight squeeze when she leaned into him.

She fell quiet for a moment, leaning her head on his shoulder as she got a hold on her emotions. “You know that basketball hoop in the driveway?” she asked eventually, reluctantly pulling away from him to sit upright.

He missed her closeness as soon as it was gone, but tried not to look disappointed. They were just friends, after all. “Of course.”

“He got that for us for my seventh birthday. It was adjusted much lower then, but sometimes I’d ask him to put it up to full height. I’d give it my best shot, but Dad always had to help me. He’d scoop me up and  _ whoosh. _ ” She mimed a slam dunk. “I can’t even begin to count the hours we spent playing one-on-one after supper.” 

“Your dad sounds like he was amazing.” He wished his dad were that amazing. 

She nodded and, whether it was the memories or the night’s cool setting in, a chill passed through her and, for comfort or for warmth, she subconsciously scooted closer to Matt. 

Noticing her chill, he reached for the excess blanket to his side and flipped it over both their laps.

She hummed contentedly, smiling up at him. How’d she get so lucky to befriend someone so observant and thoughtful?

“How’d he -” he stopped himself. Was is too insensitive to ask that question?

“Die?” Sylvie asked quietly, smoothing the blanket over her lap, and he nodded. 

“He was in a car accident driving home from one of my basketball games. Hit a patch of black ice and lost control.” She paused for a moment, staring out into the distance, vaguely aware that his arm was again draped around her shoulders. “I remember, before the game, being so disappointed that my mom couldn’t come because she had to work. I guess it worked out in the end, though. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost both of them.”

“You know,” he started with a thick swallow, staring out into the night, “I ran away from the first foster homes I was placed in so many times those first couple months. I’d sneak back into the house we lived in and I’d just go sit in my parents’ room for hours, wishing they could come back, that we could go back to the way things used to be.”

“Even though -” she left her question floating, allowing him to take it or leave it as he wanted.

He nodded. “I felt like it was my fault, like maybe if I would have been a better son, he would have been proud of me.” He paused for a moment, biting back the pain he still felt from his parents’ disappointment. “My mom told me right after she killed him that she did it for me.” 

“Why?”

“Something about me taking his comments too personally. And I did, I mean, what kid wouldn’t? He was my dad.”

She slid her hand from her lap to rest on his thigh. “I’m so sorry you went through that, Matt.”

He shrugged. “In the past now, right? Dad got what was coming to him and Mom’s paying the price. I guess what matters is I still have a chance to make a life for myself.”

“That you do.” She nodded along and gave his leg a squeeze, not bothering to remove herself from where she was tucked under his arm. He didn’t look particularly uncomfortable with it, and something about it just felt right.

Their conversation died and they were content to just sit, watching the fireworks burst, colors exploding across the sky in every direction as far as the eye could see. 

Sylvie was right, he thought, this was perfect.  _ And so is she _ , his head added, but he shut it down. They had a good thing going. Their friendship, though still new, was solid. He trusted her enough to be open and vulnerable with her and she obviously felt safe enough to be honest with him, not to mention her hand still resting on his thigh. 

Whatever this was, he didn’t want to ruin it by pressing too far, too fast. Tonight, they’d just enjoy the fireworks on the roof. . . as friends. Nothing more.


	6. More

Their birthdays came and went without too much excitement. Since Matt’s birthday landed on a weeknight, he was easily able to persuade Michelle to keep any celebration low-key. Julie and Sylvie came over for supper and the five of them spent the night just enjoying each other’s company.

Since Sylvie’s landed on a weekend, the five of them and her four grandparents met for lunch at a local restaurant. 

Bob and Bertha Brett took to Matt, if possible, even faster than Marie and Gerald had. Maybe it was the way Matt and Sylvie so effortlessly switched off telling stories or the way their eyes sparkled looking at the other, but Bertha had a feeling the boy would be coming to family events for a long time. She spent the majority of the meal questioning him, trying to get to know more about him. Before they parted ways, she insisted he come with Sylvie the next time she came to visit and, knowing summer was a busy time, set about arranging a date when Gerald didn’t need the two of them on the farm or on a construction job. 

Then that night, as promised, he and Sylvie went out, just the two of them, to celebrate. They went to a pizza place in the next town over and quickly found a place to sit. 

After the waiter took their order back to the kitchen, Sylvie raised her drink toward Matt. “To our last year before adulthood,” she toasted. 

Matt raised his cup to meet hers, the plastic emitting a soft _tap_ as the rims touched.

“You know, I have so much to thank you for,” he said. “The job, teaching me about the farm. . . being my friend.”

Sylvie looked up from her soda with a small shake of her head. “Oh, Matt, you don’t have to thank me for anything. _I_ should be the one thanking _you_. Papa only hired you on to help with construction - which you’ve been rocking, by the way - and yet you come with me every morning and night to do chores. You really didn’t have to do that.” 

“Well, you’re the one to thank for me getting a chance at a job I knew nothing about. It’s been amazing and I really, _really_ enjoy it, Sylvie. I don’t know where I’d be without this job. Thank you.”

She smiled at him then, knowing this conversation would quickly turn into them endlessly thanking the other if they let it, so she moved on instead. “Do you think - after we graduate - that you’ll stay?” _with me?_ her brain added. _No, Sylvie, stop that. You’re just friends._ “You know, keep, uh, keep working with Papa?” 

He nodded. “As long as the Beckers will have me, of course I’m staying,” he answered. Now that he knew Sylvie, he didn’t think he could ever leave her, but that wasn’t in his control right now. “If I do get sent somewhere else before graduation, I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can. After we graduate, I’d love nothing more than to keep working with you and your grandpa. We make a really good team.”

“That we do.”

“And if you decided to go become a realtor after high school -”

Her face lit up and she exclaimed, “We’d be just like Chip and Joanna!” Her face flushed red as she realized the implication behind that statement and she quickly amended shyly,   
“Except, you know, not married.” 

Thankfully for her, the waiter came with their pizzas, saving her from stammering around talking herself into a hole. How many times had she done that with him already? Too many to count. Sure, she was curious whether they could become something more, but how does one even start that conversation? This wasn’t like the movies where she could just kiss him senseless and everything would work out. Heck, she’d never kissed _anyone_ before. 

Reaching for a slice of the large pepperoni pizza, she decided she’d just wait it out. Good things come to those who wait… right?

* * *

July turned to August and the sticky heat of the Midwest finally began to subside. Matt and Sylvie spent more time together when they came home from evening chores, climbing up onto her roof on clear nights and stargazing before she drove him home later. 

She’d point out the constellations she knew at first. Having grown up in the city, he hadn’t known nearly as many as she. Now, of course, he knew them all by heart. 

Tonight, though, they weren’t just out here for the stars… at least not according to Sylvie.

_“The Perseids are peaking tonight, Matt! There’s no way we’re going to miss it!”_

The Perseids, a meteor shower she’d been excited about since it started a month ago. . . at the peak of the heat wave. Now that the heat had started to give way to the autumn chill, the sky was crisper and the shooting stars much more visible. Like the fireworks nearly two months ago, he could see a streak of light in nearly every direction he turned.

This really was the perfect way to spend the night, laying on the roof with his best friend. No matter whatever other feelings he might have for her, right now they were just friends and that was fine by him. . . or so he told himself. But the way she tucked herself into him as the night got colder made him less and less sure of himself by the minute. And when she laid her head on his shoulder and draped an arm over his chest? That sent his head reeling. 

Did _she_ want something more? Would he ruin whatever this was between them by _not_ acting on whatever these feelings were?

A gentle touch on his cheek stirred him from his thoughts, but did nothing to put his conflicted feelings at ease. 

“I can feel you thinking, Matt,” she said, brushing her thumb across his cheek. 

She didn’t know what was prompting her to be so affectionate with him, but here she was. Aside from small touches meant to comfort when they were discussing heavy topics, she’d never done this sort of thing before. And brushing his cheek? She’d only seen something like that in the cheesy Hallmark movies she and her mom watched at Christmas time. 

“What’s on your mind?” she prompted.

Part of him wanted to lie, to say everything was fine, but he knew he couldn’t do that. They’d been honest with each other up to this point. There was no use in changing that now, especially when what was on his mind was her, them, whatever their relationship was. 

“Matt?” she asked, concerned at his hesitation, sitting up so she could look at him properly.

“You,” he answered with a thick swallow, also moving to a sitting position and meeting her eyes. “You’re on my mind. That is - you and me, us. What are we?”

She blinked up at him, blue eyes soft, and pulled her lip between her teeth. “We’re, uh, we’re friends for sure,” she answered shyly, wringing her hands in her lap, “but I don’t think _just friends_ cuddle up like we were.”

“I don’t think so either…” He offered her a small smile, unable to tear his eyes away from hers as he put a hand over hers, effectively stilling them. “Do you want to be more?” Is that how these conversations were supposed to go?

“I - I don’t know. Do you?” She definitely wanted more. . . but would that mess up the friendship they had? Should have she just said yes and they would have figured it out? 

“I don’t know. I’ve never done any of this before, Sylvie,” he said. It came out sounding like an apology. 

She rolled her hand underneath his so their palms were touching, another trick from the movies. “Me either.”

He intertwined their fingers and they sat like that for a moment, each lost in the other’s eyes, the meteors totally forgotten.

“I really don’t know how any of this goes, Matt,” she said carefully, “but I know that I _really_ like you. You’re an amazing person and a great friend. What do you say that, whatever this is, we just take it one day at a time?”

“We don’t have to figure it out now,” he agreed. “But, for the record, Sylvie, you’re the best person to come into my life in a really long time. Whatever this is, I don’t want to screw it up and lose you.” 

“If we do pursue this and it doesn’t work out, you’re not going to lose me. That’s a promise, and I don’t take those lightly.”

Remembering a conversation they had what simultaneously felt like ages ago and just yesterday, he extended a pinky toward her. “Pinky swear?” he asked.

She smiled warmly at him, raising her pinky and wrapping it around his. “Pinky swear.”

When their little fingers released, they leaned back onto the blanket. Sylvie nestled up against him, her head on his shoulder. For the both of them, it just felt _right_ , and they were content to stay like that as long as the night let them.

* * *

Around midnight, the phone began to ring. 

Julie stirred from her sleep and moved to where it hung on the wall, her hand stopping just short of picking it up. The last time the phone rang this late was the night Daniel had died. “Hello?” she answered, her heart in her throat. Nothing good ever came from late night phone calls.

“Is Matt still at your place? He never came home.” Michelle’s voice came through the receiver, strained with concern.

“I know I saw him with Sylvie when I came home from work,” she informed her friend. “Just give me a minute. I’ll see if I can find them.” She let the phone dangle against the wall, first going to check her daughter’s room. The two of them _shouldn’t_ be in there, especially not without her knowledge, but her Sylvie wasn’t a little girl any more. She was nearly an adult now. It was a small blessing Julie hadn’t had to worry about a boy before now.

Finding the bedroom empty, Julie tried not to let herself worry. She’d seen the two when she came home, and she hadn’t heard the truck leave. They were probably still on the roof. She knew how much her daughter loved going up there. 

Sure enough, getting outside, she saw the ladder still propped against the back of the house. She climbed the rungs until she was just high enough to look over the edge of the roof. 

What she saw eased the little worry she had and brought a smile to her face. Sylvie was curled into Matt, and the two appeared to be fast asleep. 

Julie lowered herself back down the ladder and informed Michelle that Matt would be spending the night. “Call it camping,” she said.

Michelle breathed a sigh of relief. “I was hoping that’s all it was. G’night, Jules.”

Julie smiled down the line. “G’night, Chelle.” 

And a good night it was.

_Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> We've reached the end! (for now)  
> This story has been so much fun to write. I've loved reading all your comments and seeing it gain 100+ kudos in just two weeks! Thank you all so much for making that happen and going on this journey with me. I can't wait to pick this universe up when Matt and Sylvie are a little bit older.  
> In the mean time, I hope you all have a safe and happy holiday season, whichever one(s) you may celebrate.  
> Much love to you all,  
> Kae


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